


don't blink (lest they come upon you in the night)

by lmeden



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-14
Updated: 2010-10-14
Packaged: 2017-10-12 16:11:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/126702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lmeden/pseuds/lmeden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's all about the little things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	don't blink (lest they come upon you in the night)

**Author's Note:**

> For inception_kink.

Eames has never told Arthur he loves him. There has never been a good moment to say it, never an instant occurring in which Arthur looked into his eyes and saw something besides confidence and cool competence. Eames has made sure of it, of course. He cannot be underestimated, thought of as weak – not in this, quite literally, cutthroat profession.

He knows better than any, that love is a weakness. Whenever he looks at Arthur, he fights a physical urge, a jolt that runs through his and sickens him with its power, to walk up to the man and reach out, pull him close; just feel Arthur's body, slim and hot, against his own. When working with Arthur, Eames lashes out, killing projections with unnecessary violence and snapping at anyone and anything to distract himself; Eames does not want to look over and see Arthur, give his own weakness away by getting himself killed, or, many times worse, giving himself away and ruining the job.

It is enough that in the months since he first saw Arthur, Eames has not been able to resist doing small things for the man – organizing a pile of research papers that has scattered, picking up and folding the designer suit coat that has fallen off a chair back, or shifting the man to a more comfortable position when Eames comes upon him slumped, dreaming late at night when he thinks himself alone. And now Arthur is with him, against him, and quite naked. Eames wraps his arms around him, pulling Arthur close. He sighs.

Finally they are tangled together under the sheets, sweaty and close. Eames cannot think of anything else that he wants in the world besides this – absolutely nothing.

So it is uncharacteristic that now, lying with Arthur's bare back against his chest, his arse against Eames' cock, he would wish so strongly to lean forward, nestle his lips behind Arthur's ear and whisper, "I love you."

He shifts, and Arthur murmurs, still sleepy. Eames smiles slightly and places his mouth behind the shell of Arthur's ear, opening his mouth to utter the words that he has felt, has embodied, for forever. But he cannot say them. Instead he exhales, and purses his lips to kiss the back of Arthur's ear. Arthur murmurs again, louder, and his cheek curves up with a smile.

This is enough, Eames thinks. To have Arthur here, next to him, finally _beside him_ and not fighting against him. This is what he has waited for, and it makes him unutterably happy. Arthur's earlobe is close, too close, and so Eames moves that extra centimeter and takes it between his teeth. He pulls back, barely letting go as Arthur's flesh begins to stretch and he hisses. Eames gazes down at the tiny red marks left in the soft skin, marks that prove this is real.

Arthur pushes back against him, and though Eames wants to push against him, cross the barrier that divides skin from skin so that they are one and Arthur can never leave him, but he gives, and allows Arthur to roll back and over, so that they are face to face. Arthur gazes at him for a long moment, eyes dark and face calm, and Eames is on the verge of giving in and asking "What is it?" or simply kissing him, when Arthur lips curve into the softest smile possible and his gaze meets Eames' and he says,

"I love you."

It is a blow to Eames' consciousness, and his hand twists tightly on Arthur arm, where it had been resting. Arthur doesn't flinch, simply watches him. Eames feels the blood drain from his face, his eyes go wide and startled, and his heartbeat pounds, pounds through him. Arthur loves him. It is too much. It is a dream – no, better than a dream, for no dream (transient, hypocritical things that they are) could ever give him this moment. Could ever give him Arthur's love.

A smile breaks out across Eames' face. It is involuntary, and so wide that it quickly becomes a bit painful. But Eames cannot stop. He doesn't want to stop. He wants to smile like this forever and never _ever_ stop.

Eames adjusts his grip on Arthur and pulls him forward. Arthur hums and smiles and tilts his head. His lips brush up gently against Eames' and he feels a shiver run through them both, and Eames' blink closed for just and instant and them open again to bright, piercing sunlight.

He blinks once more, but nothing changes. The hot summer air trapped within the warehouse swirls around him as he sits up. Dully, he looks down at his arm and pulls the needle out. The PASIV sighs as the tubing and needle rolls away. Eames slowly lies back down, alone.


End file.
